


North Star

by Oblivion_Wanderer



Category: Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: Angst, F/M, set during 2x07, well Anna's kinda there but not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-28
Updated: 2016-06-28
Packaged: 2018-07-18 20:31:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7329673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oblivion_Wanderer/pseuds/Oblivion_Wanderer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At a low point during his capture, Hewlett is convinced he won't make it out of this situation, but something changes his mind and keeps him fighting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	North Star

**Author's Note:**

> Set during 2x07- 'Valley Forge'
> 
> This is inspired by a similar scene near the end of 2x10 of Orphan Black where Cosima 'sees' Delphine. I like to think that Hewlett experienced something similar to this at some point while in captivity and it was this 'vision' and kept him fighting, as Anna was his main mechanism of coping during this ordeal.

The number of days that had passed since he had first been dragged and thrown into this cell- Hewlett had lost track of them.

The days were cold and short, the nights even colder and seeming to last forever. Given nothing but a blanket to shield his exposed body to the elements, the blanket itself offering little warmth, he felt frozen to the ground. Little food or water was even offered to him, and it made him wonder which would kill him first; starvation or hypothermia.

Hewlett didn't understand. He hadn't done anything and as far as he was concerned somehow he had been framed for this crime. Despite those rebels constantly saying it was him, that he was a demon, Hewlett still held on to the conviction that he didn't do it. How could he? He had never been here until now and even so, though a solider he was, he would never be able to kill someone in the manner that they were accusing him of. He hadn't written that note ether; it was nowhere near his own script.

The Major held this as truth, but slowly as the days went on he was starting to lose his resolve. Being isolated was wearing away at his mind, and the cold that seeped into every inch of him was tearing him apart. A couple times he was let out, but only so the rebels could try and beat a false confession out of him. Hewlett wanted so desperately to think, that someone, anyone would come save him, but deep down he knew there was no rescue.

He quickly gave into the reality that he would probably die in this cell.

At night, sometimes the stars showed through the opening in the top of the cell, but eventually they even seemed less and less of a comfort, though they were his only company in this darkness.

The days passed, the cold short days and their corresponding long nights. There came one night that, looking back on it later, Hewlett saw as a low point of his capture.

The earth was cold beneath him where he lay, curled up in the blanket as much as he could though he still shivered, his back to the wooden wall. His breath was puffs of weak white smoke that disappeared only seconds after making contact with the air. Every part of his body hurt, from the cold and the hunger pains and the exhaustion, and he was starting to go numb in his the tips of his fingers and toes.

The stars were up, but he didn't look at them. Hewlett felt so alone, so cold. He wanted out but it was not going to happen. This would be his end. It was a hopeless situation. Even if he tried to persuade the rebels, no one was going to help or take pity on him. They just wanted him dead.

There was nothing to be done.

Hewlett didn't focus his vision on anything, only stared blankly ahead from where he lay. He was so tired... he didn't want to do this anymore. This was torture, a painful and slow one. He couldn't do this any more.

His eyes fluttered shut, but he opened them again against his body's protests. He knew what would happen if he gave into sleep-

_'But what's the point?'_ Hewlett thought. _'There's no way out, and no rescue is coming. Ether way... these rebels will likely get their wish. Maybe if I perish now it will save me from a more brutal death. There's no more fight left in me, in the weak Oyster Major...'_

Hewlett had never wanted to fight in this war, he'd never wanted to come here. He had, for his family’s sake. He gave up his one true passion for his family, the war, and the Crown. What had that sacrifice earned him? Apparently a fate such as this.

He didn't want to think he'd let everyone down by giving in, but he had; his fire was flickering out. He'd let down his men, the town, his family... Oh God, would his mother even be informed of what happened? He'd let her down too.

And most of all... Anna Strong, the woman he vowed to protect.

_'I'm so sorry, Anna. Forgive me...'_

Hewlett closed his eyes, finally giving in. Eventually sleep would take him, and in this state he didn't know if he would ever wake up. It would be a painless and quiet death...

“Edmund.”

A voice, faint n the dark fading of his consciousness... but maybe he was just imagining it.

“Edmund.”

It came again, clearer... and he felt a gentle touch on the side of his face. It was warm.

He forced his eyes open, a slow process, and when he did, he could make out something in front of him. Not something, but someone. There was someone in the cell with him, someone who happened to look a lot like...

No. It was her.

“A-Anna...?” He whispered in disbelief.

Anna Strong smiled gently down at him, her hand on his face. She wore a cloak and the same dress she had been wearing when he first invited her to Whitehall after the raid. Moonlight glowed around her, as if she had descended from the stars. Her brown eyes were full of stars.

He wasn't understanding this; how or why she was here. Anna couldn't be here, she was in Setauket and not in this nightmarish place. Setauket had been the last time he had seen her, the moment he was taken from Whitehall and she screamed for him. Hewlett would never forget that moment.

“Do not be afraid.” She said to him. “You will survive this.”

Hewlett, despite wanting to lay here and fall into an eternal slumber, forced himself up and sat with his back against the wood again. His body ached, but the sight of Anna brought the tiniest bit of strength back. She seemed to have that effect on him.

“I... I don't understand; you- you're not here. You can't be-”

“Edmund, shh. It's alright.”

He pulled the blanket closer to himself. “It's not. I can't do this anymore; I'm so tired... I'm not going to make it.”

“You will.” She insisted. “You are Major Edmund Hewlett, a good man. I believe in you. You will live.”

Her words were soft spoken and reassuring, and were able to reach his heart through the frost. “Please... don't go.”

Anna leaned forward and kissed his forehead. He didn't exactly feel it, but maybe that was because of how cold he was. Hewlett closed his eyes against the touch. “I won't leave you.”

A shaky smile made it's way to his lips. Anna was much stronger than Hewlett could ever hope to be himself. He admired her for that, for her strength. Anna brought out the best in him, and all he wanted to do in turn was be there for her, protect her. He would be her friend even if she never accepted his feelings that he was now aware of.

_'I love you, Anna.'_ He realized for the first time. _'Dear God in heaven and the stars above, I love you.'_

Hewlett opened his eyes and looked up, meaning to say this confession to her...

...but Anna wasn't there.

His smile disappeared, staring at the spot where she had been, a new wave of cold washed over his heart and a tear slipped free from his eyes.

Of course she couldn't have been here, and Hewlett knew now that seeing her must have been some figment or a vision brought on by these horrible conditions. He had hallucinated seeing Anna; she hadn't really been here. It was all in his head.

Sorrow came over him and a sob tore itself from his chest. He buried his head in his hands.

_'Am I going mad?'_ He thought. If he had only imagined Anna then maybe this was a sign pointing to that conclusion. Maybe he was finally breaking apart after the torture of being in this place. The illusion may have been trying to comfort him, but it didn't help.

Then another thought occurred to Hewlett. It was said, sometimes at a person's lowest point or something similar like a brush with death, people have a vision. Being seeing God or something else, maybe instead of an illusion, Hewlett had a vision experienced because he was at a low point where he had been willing to give up.

His vision of Anna was telling him to live. She wanted him to live.

Hewlett tried to pull himself together, sniffling. Be it an image of losing sanity or a vision trying to console him, Hewlett knew that Anna would want him to live. If she had been taken instead of him, Hewlett would want the same thing. He couldn't give up just yet, he could not leave Anna alone. He knew this situation was horrid, but he had to keep holding on, for her. Though she had not been here, Anna had still managed to put some new determination back into him and kept the flame of his soul alive.

He had to live for Anna. Hewlett would not give up just yet.

The day came and he heard passing rebels talk about how they heard Hewlett talking to himself the previous night. They thought maybe he was going mad, just as he had thought. The Major ignored them; let them talk. He would believe in the words of Anna.

During the night when the stars were up Hewlett would talk to Anna. He would show her the stars and tell her stories. He may have lost a tiny bit of sanity because he was talking to someone he knew wasn't there, but he would imagine Anna was there sitting next to him. He'd imagine she was there, smiling and leaning against him.

It helped. Talking to this light, his angel, helped.

When they covered the top of the cell, blocking his view of the stars, Hewlett screamed and wept. He started to spiral down again, thinking that maybe he was a demon, but then a moment of clarity gave him insight into what must be the truth.

The name Simcoe came to mind and then he knew.

Anna's words still lingered in the back of his mind and he remembered that as well. Now he had two reasons to keep fighting.

When his toes turned black and he could no longer feel them, the solider came and left him the knife. Hewlett almost gave into temptation again as he held the blade to his wrists. He could imagine Anna yelling, pleading, at him to stop, and Hewlett remembered why he was still fighting. He could not do this to Anna.

He took the knife to his frostbitten foot instead and cut off his toes as an attempt to keep the frostbite at bay. It was still painful, though he'd lost most feeling in them.

When Simcoe came shortly after, Hewlett felt anger boil inside him. Simcoe was behind all this and set him up, and now he was here to kill him. Hewlett still had the knife, and in an effort that was primary fueled by a fit of revenge, Hewlett stabbed Simcoe and made his escape.

Hewlett stole a uniform and, with the knife, fled into the woods.

He was free now, but it wasn't over yet. Simcoe would not die so easily and would probably head back to Setauket, and Hewlett needed to get back there as well, all while surviving the winter conditions. The words of his vision of Anna ran through his mind as he dashed through the woods, as far away as he could get.

“ _You will live.”_

Hewlett had to get back to Setauket, get back to Anna.

He could make it.


End file.
